*/
Wenzel Great Basin Tent - 9 Person

A Year of Waiting

November 25, 2015 - Comment

A friend emailed me the other day. Kim, she wrote, I think I somehow got deleted from your mailing list. I haven’t received a blog update in a really long time. Another friend emailed about her upcoming adventures. There are just so many places. Hey, that’s the name of someone’s long neglected blog.

I know, I know. It’s been awhile.

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve sat down to write a blog post over the past months. I’ve got so many drafts on my desktop that I’ve started to name them ‘ANOTHER BLOG POST I WON’T PUBLISH V. 12.’

When Brian and I settled in Mexico almost 10 months ago I knew exactly what I wanted to accomplish there. I wanted to write my book proposal, find an agent and sell my book. And Brian and I wanted to have a baby. The entire thing felt far-fetched. The book was the culmination of years of work but I had no idea if I could sell it. The chances felt small. And as far as the baby went, we’d managed to make it into our mid-30’s and through 7 years of marriage without conceiving one. Now that we hoped for one was it even possible?

And then everything happened at once. Within two months of our arrival in Mexico I had a book proposal, I’d signed with an agent, and one morning I looked down upon a stick that told me I was embarazada.

pregnancy test

Then I spent the next few hours on Google Translate just to make sure.

It was an exciting month.

But then I began to get sick. I was throwing up 24-hours a day. I was dizzy, bed-bound and miserable. I spent the entire first trimester of my pregnancy horizontal. It was 90 degrees in Mexico and humid. We didn’t have air conditioning. We didn’t have a car, either, so if I wanted to leave the apartment I had to walk 20-minutes into town. I’d spend the entire walk dry-heaving into the bushes like a cat with a hairball. Finally I pulled my head out of the toilet and said to Brian, get me out of here. I just wanted a soft place to land. I wanted comfort and familiar food and climate control and a shower with reliable hot water. I wanted to go home.

Sayulita, Mexico

A blurry photo from one of my rare walks into town. It’s kind of hard to believe that my stomach was ever so flat. 

So home we came. And I have spent the past 5 months in daily solitude, working on my book (hopefully I will be able to give you an update on this soon) and growing a baby. In fact, she’s due in just two weeks and I am currently a gigantic whale of a human.

38 weeks pregnant

Only two weeks to go! Those pants I have on in the photo from Mexico I now cannot get past my knees.

I thought I would write about my pregnancy on the blog. But growing this life inside of me feels incredibly personal in a way that nothing else ever has. I feel very protective of the entire experience. It’s hard for me to explain because I don’t quite understand it myself. Maybe it’s best to say that instead of projecting my energy out into the world, like normal, I’ve found myself projecting it inward, towards the baby. The past 9 months I’ve felt like I’ve been curled in a cocoon, beating away the outside world, preparing myself for the life-changing experience of motherhood.

Brian and I have reached this strange crossroads in life because we’re not sure what we want anymore. The initial dream of seeing the world has been fulfilled. The next dreams of book and baby are in the works. We talk about what we want for the future. But it’s so hard to make plans when we know that the experience of becoming parents will certainly change things for us.

We know for sure that our time in Ohio is temporary. But what comes after? We toss around ideas: A cross-country move back to Oregon, spending a year or two in a campervan, hopping the next flight to Thailand. They’re all options. And we don’t know which one we want, or if we want any of them, or a combination of them, or some other thing that hasn’t revealed itself yet. And of course we have this new little soul to consider now. What will she be like? What will she love? What will she want and need out of life?

It’s been a year of waiting. Waiting for the baby. Waiting for news on the book. Waiting to see how our life takes shape as those dreams from Mexico make their way into the world.

We’re getting closer…

email-footer

0
0
0
0
0
0
0
0
0

A friend emailed me the other day. Kim, she wrote, I think I somehow got deleted from your mailing list. I haven’t received a blog update in a really long time. Another friend emailed about her upcoming adventures. There are just so many places. Hey, that’s the name of someone’s long neglected blog.

I know, I know. It’s been awhile.

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve sat down to write a blog post over the past months. I’ve got so many drafts on my desktop that I’ve started to name them ‘ANOTHER BLOG POST I WON’T PUBLISH V. 12.’

When Brian and I settled in Mexico almost 10 months ago I knew exactly what I wanted to accomplish there. I wanted to write my book proposal, find an agent and sell my book. And Brian and I wanted to have a baby. The entire thing felt far-fetched. The book was the culmination of years of work but I had no idea if I could sell it. The chances felt small. And as far as the baby went, we’d managed to make it into our mid-30’s and through 7 years of marriage without conceiving one. Now that we hoped for one was it even possible?

And then everything happened at once. Within two months of our arrival in Mexico I had a book proposal, I’d signed with an agent, and one morning I looked down upon a stick that told me I was embarazada.

pregnancy test

Then I spent the next few hours on Google Translate just to make sure.

It was an exciting month.

But then I began to get sick. I was throwing up 24-hours a day. I was dizzy, bed-bound and miserable. I spent the entire first trimester of my pregnancy horizontal. It was 90 degrees in Mexico and humid. We didn’t have air conditioning. We didn’t have a car, either, so if I wanted to leave the apartment I had to walk 20-minutes into town. I’d spend the entire walk dry-heaving into the bushes like a cat with a hairball. Finally I pulled my head out of the toilet and said to Brian, get me out of here. I just wanted a soft place to land. I wanted comfort and familiar food and climate control and a shower with reliable hot water. I wanted to go home.

Sayulita, Mexico

A blurry photo from one of my rare walks into town. It’s kind of hard to believe that my stomach was ever so flat. 

So home we came. And I have spent the past 5 months in daily solitude, working on my book (hopefully I will be able to give you an update on this soon) and growing a baby. In fact, she’s due in just two weeks and I am currently a gigantic whale of a human.

38 weeks pregnant

Only two weeks to go! Those pants I have on in the photo from Mexico I now cannot get past my knees.

I thought I would write about my pregnancy on the blog. But growing this life inside of me feels incredibly personal in a way that nothing else ever has. I feel very protective of the entire experience. It’s hard for me to explain because I don’t quite understand it myself. Maybe it’s best to say that instead of projecting my energy out into the world, like normal, I’ve found myself projecting it inward, towards the baby. The past 9 months I’ve felt like I’ve been curled in a cocoon, beating away the outside world, preparing myself for the life-changing experience of motherhood.

Brian and I have reached this strange crossroads in life because we’re not sure what we want anymore. The initial dream of seeing the world has been fulfilled. The next dreams of book and baby are in the works. We talk about what we want for the future. But it’s so hard to make plans when we know that the experience of becoming parents will certainly change things for us.

We know for sure that our time in Ohio is temporary. But what comes after? We toss around ideas: A cross-country move back to Oregon, spending a year or two in a campervan, hopping the next flight to Thailand. They’re all options. And we don’t know which one we want, or if we want any of them, or a combination of them, or some other thing that hasn’t revealed itself yet. And of course we have this new little soul to consider now. What will she be like? What will she love? What will she want and need out of life?

It’s been a year of waiting. Waiting for the baby. Waiting for news on the book. Waiting to see how our life takes shape as those dreams from Mexico make their way into the world.

We’re getting closer…

email-footer

0
0
0
0
0
0
0
0
0

Comments

Write a comment

*

*


Terms of Use | Privacy Policy | Disclosures | Website Disclaimer | Blog
Copyright © by Backpacking and Camping Essentials | ALL RIGHTS RESERVED